


Burn To Emerge

by Cosmic_Firestorm



Series: Eyes Turned Skyward (The Flying Fish Series) [1]
Category: DCU, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Green Lantern: The Animated Series
Genre: Admiration, Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fantasizing, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gang Violence, Getting to Know Each Other, Guilt, Help, Interspecies Romance, Major Character Injury, Purring, Racism, Rare Pairings, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Storytelling, The Author Regrets Nothing, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Firestorm/pseuds/Cosmic_Firestorm
Summary: Sometimes it's better to apologize later than to ask permission first.That was the first lesson Hallie Jordan and Tomar-Re learned together as partners in the Honor Guard...However, if this crush she has on him continues, Hallie may have a lot of apologizing to do.





	

After the Manhunter threat ended, Hallie Jordan was able to focus more fully on her job as an Honor Guard for the Corps. That meant working more one-on-one with Tomar-Re and Hallie would easily admit that she was excited for that. They wouldn’t have found out about the Anti-Monitor activating the Manhunters without him and he had been a supportive presence when Hallie was struggling with her guilt over Aya’s turn.

Now, with Aya missing in action, Razer traveling the universe, Kilowog getting back to his training of recruits, and her human friend Carol lightyears away, it was nice for Hallie to have another friend to talk to, one who was readily available.

She was the one who did most of the talking; she reminisced about some of the planets the _Interceptor_ crew had encountered, their greatest moments and their lowest, their uncomfortable conversations and the ones that never quite happened. Tomar-Re seemed content to listen and occasionally chip in with some advice after the fact, but sometimes Hallie would coax him into telling some stories of his own.

“You’re a scientist,” she would remind him. “I’m sure you’ve had some encounters with your own jellyfish clans and spider prisons. What’d you do?”

Ever so gradually, he began opening up to her, dispensing some tales of strange things he had encountered before and after his promotion. Hallie drank it all in. Because Tomar-Re was so levelheaded, there wasn’t much that surprised him and he didn’t seem to realize how crazy and entertaining his stories were. Oftentimes he would glance at her, head tilted, as she struggled and failed to hold back her laughter. He seemed to get used to it after a while, though, and their cultural misunderstandings weren’t as uncomfortable.

“One of these days,” she informed him, “I’m going to teach you how to fist bump.”

“Since you first mentioned it, I’ve done some research on the subject and I understand the concept,” Tomar-Re replied thoughtfully.

“Seriously? Alright, it’s about time someone at least made an effort! C'mon, put it here!” Grinning, Hallie lifted a fist and Tomar-Re paused, ceremoniously straightening and pressing his fingers to hers. Clearing her throat, Hallie laughed awkwardly and shook her head. “Key words being ‘an effort’, I guess. It…could use some work.”

To her relief, Tomar-Re didn’t seem insulted by this. Instead he withdrew his hand, folding it behind his back in his signature at-ease pose. “Was it my technique that was flawed?”

“No, no, you did the moves just fine. It’s just meant to _feel_ less like a salute and more like a high-five,” Hallie explained sheepishly. Tomar-Re’s expression was as blank as it could be while still looking intelligent and she grimaced a little. “…Do you know what a high-five is?”

“Perhaps you can explain the magnitude behind it.”

Hallie smiled ruefully, shaking her head a second time and accepting defeat for now. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

* * *

After a while of working with and getting to know Tomar-Re, Hallie had been treated to an offhand thought—embarrassingly enough, when they were in the middle of a Guardian debriefing—that she liked the sound of his voice. She blinked a few times as soon as the idea came to mind, now far more aware of the steady presence standing at ease beside her. Hastily she followed his example, forcing herself to refocus on the instructions they were receiving.

Later on, Tomar-Re was greeting the locals on the planet they were to patrol for the day, cultured and deliberate as always, and Hallie realized that yes, she definitely _did_ like the sound of his voice. She had gotten used to hearing it as the months passed, but now she was re-noticing and re-appreciating various aspects of it. It was warm and silky-rich but still had his whirring Xudarian timbre, like he was speaking on the surface and purring low in his throat at the same time.

Hallie tried to shake away this notion, but as Tomar-Re called her over to introduce her, she had to bite her lip, hiding a smile at the way his purr rolled behind the word “Jordan”. He already looked part fish, part bird. There was no need to add a cat into the mix; she had always been more of a dog person anyway. Even so, she couldn’t resist a little experiment: trying to draw the purr out of his throat more prominently, inch by stubborn inch. She just wanted to know if it was possible.

Predictably, he turned out to be all business. Even the purr managed to sound official, unaffected when she flattered him about how well he interacted with the residents.

“As I believe they say on your planet, practice makes perfection, Hallie Jordan,” he reminded her. “You yourself have an admirable charisma with other races which you may not have taken into account.”

“Well, maybe. I’ve survived this long,” Hallie joked. “But maybe you can give me some pointers.” Advising her on protocols and his way of doing things was something he was enthusiastic about and while she definitely was not interested in the material, she was sure it would keep him talking. She’d pay more attention to his tone than to his words. Sure enough, he seemed pleased with the request, launching into an explanation of the practice he’d been put through to reach the adept skills he had now, and she was content to listen to the alien buzz behind his r’s. What might he sound like if he sang?

Even as they grew closer, one topic Hallie avoided asking about was his home sector of 2813. He had never gone into detail about why it was uninhabited now, despite the full, populated history he spoke of. She was especially curious about the population of Krypton, who sounded like just the kind of race Tomar-Re would enjoy—peaceful, intelligent, and grand, but when he did speak of them, ever so rarely, it was with a controlled _lack_ of tone and more telling sadness in his eyes.

Hallie had heard of Krypton’s fate through gossip, of course. Was Tomar-Re’s on-and-off refusal to speak of it simply because they had shared a sector or was this what Xudarian survivor guilt looked like? He must feel like he had failed as Krypton’s protector and by some accounts, he had, but Hallie was sure there was far more to it than that.

 _If he wasn’t there to protect Krypton, there was an important reason_. She firmly believed that. Every time she considered bringing it up, he seemed to sense the question and withdrew from the subject, pressing onward to talk of their next assignment. Eventually Hallie conceded Sector 2813 as a cultural confusion that might never be explained. She wasn’t going to expect that of him unfairly and they only bonded more fully because of this understanding between them. She could be satisfied with that.

* * *

Later on, she was forced to make another go at being a cat person, when she noticed just how felinely graceful his movements were, once they located a threat to one of the planets on their roster and were busy trying to take the invading squadron of robots down.

Since she had first been promoted, Hallie had done her best to learn from Tomar-Re’s example, watching and echoing his fighting patterns. As she mimicked his somersault and smacked one of their combatants away from her partner’s back, he continued springing backward as though the air had gone solid, vaulting over the foe that had gone flying and impaling a second mech who was on the approach with his signature trident construct.

 _Wow, even his constructs are slick!_ Hallie thought distractedly before ducking another swing. _Admire them later, Hal, when you’re_ not _in the middle of a battlefield!_

True to form, she kept that promise to herself, taking some opportunities to consider how carefully he forged his constructs, how immaculately detailed they were even when they were created in a rush. During their battle in the Manhunter temple, ages ago, she had barely given his constructs a second glance, but now, in a way, they reminded her of home. They were like Carol’s drawings, neat and concise, the kind of creation that Hallie wanted so badly to learn, just for the sake of giving it her characteristic _flair_. The familiarity was comforting and bittersweet, so she kept studying.

She wasn’t exactly sure when her eyes shifted from his constructs to his body, but when she found herself coming up with words like “sleek” and “trim” and “graceful”, she blushed the magenta shade of the alien plants the scientist was examining and prayed he wouldn’t notice. To her horror, he chose that moment to tilt his head in her direction, just enough that she felt obligated to approach and say something, anything to save face. Had he seen the stupid grin she was wearing?

“Those look nice,” she managed after a minute or two, wincing at how wooden she sounded.

Tomar-Re nodded with a layered, contemplative hum, pulling a few away from the collection and rising to hand them to her. Did he mean them as a gift? Should she thank him? Unsure of what to say, Hallie took the offering and squirmed, chest tight. It was in that exact moment, as Tomar moved away to speak with some of the residents about taking the plants for examination—yes, they were for examination, not for her—that Hallie was able to admit it to herself: she had a crush on Tomar-Re, and it was probably only going to get worse.

* * *

For several months, she tried to ignore it, feeling guilty as heck and wondering just how long it would be before it faded and she could get her head back in the game. The problem was that her head had never left it. In fact, the more she paid attention to him, the better they worked together. It was her own feelings teasing her, especially when Tomar-Re would say something innocent like, “Nicely executed, Hallie Jordan,” and her ring’s green aura would flicker happily in response. The first time it did that, which she prayed would be the _only_ time, she had been mortified, barely managing to hide it behind her smile.

There were plenty of alien guys she encountered who clearly appreciated her. Some of them had turned her head in return, but no matter how they flirted or even if they kissed in the end, she knew those fond encounters wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, she ended up back in space with Tomar and all the feelings would resurrect themselves, stronger than ever. It was agonizing.

Sometimes, if she was feeling particularly bold, she would lay the compliments on thick or make a vaguely flirty comment, but if Tomar-Re realized her intentions, he never gave any indication of it. Apparently the rings’ translations weren’t clear enough. Without even trying, he was too elusive, too straight-laced…It was kind of sexy.

Not only was he her partner, he was the senior officer, and there was no way he would be open to hearing about her feelings, much less acknowledging or returning them. The Corps and their commitment to it came first; it always should! Not to mention that she had owned pets when she was young—namely, a macaw and a few different fish, so having a crush on a fish-bird-person was _weird_. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

 _Says the one who watched a Red Lantern fall in love with a nav computer,_ the secretly infatuated part of her pointed out.

 _That was different,_ the rational part of her reasoned (but the fact that her mental voice of reason sounded like the source of her problem absolutely didn’t help). _This isn’t even an option. Neither of us needs to get in any trouble when I’ve finally got the Guardians on a good side_. She wasn’t sure how Tomar would react to getting in trouble with the Guardians, but she had a feeling that might be the one thing to get a rise out of him.

She couldn’t keep making excuses indefinitely; this was made all too clear when they found their way to a planet where Xudarians weren’t the most welcome of visitors. Hallie had been forced to take over negotiations with the population, all the while wondering how on Earth or any planet they could think of him as beneath them. He was a representative not only of the Corps, but of one of the most peaceful races she could name!

Barely twenty-four hours after they arrived, she was tearing _five_ huge assailants off of him in an alleyway. He was an accomplished fighter, but outnumbered, outsized, and taken by surprise…needless to say, he wasn’t doing well, and Hallie had been forced to swallow several rises of anxiety as they went back to the quarters they had been given to share, making halfhearted quips about how he needed to visit Kilowog for more battle training. Shockingly, he made a sound that could have been a laugh if he hadn’t been out of breath, and against the supporting hand she’d placed on his back, she felt an accompanying flutter.

Somehow the notion that Tomar-Re would have wings, like the rest of his race, hadn’t come to her. Now that it had been confirmed, she found herself transfixed as he folded back the upper half of his uniform and worked to get himself cleaned up, staunching his shoulders' deeper gashes and salving the vast rib-to-waistline bruises before turning attention to his wings. He cleaned and smoothed the primary and secondary feathers without a thought, but the others weren’t as easily reached.

 _He needs help_. No sooner had this thought surfaced did Hallie slide forward half a step and rest her hands on the grimy, ruffled feathers. Her partner startled ever so slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder as she gingerly combed a few fingers through the grime.

“Are you…preening me, Hallie Jordan?”

The question held no accusation, but Hallie shrank a little nonetheless. “You don’t mind, do you?”

His hesitation lasted far too long and Hallie saw fit to let go of him and escape into the adjacent washroom until he finally conceded, “No.” His wings seemed to agree, settling more deliberately, more trustingly into her hands.

Swallowing, Hallie clumsily started her work, privately marveling at just how downy the wings were underneath the grunge she was combing out. She knew absolutely nothing about cleaning bird wings, so she went by feel, eventually finding the pattern and rhythm to his framing and working around it. Tomar-Re was quiet, his breathing too deep and even to be natural, but at least it didn’t look like she was causing him pain.

After several minutes of what was less preening and more outright petting, Hallie forced herself to pull her hands away. “Done,” she said quietly. It took a few seconds for him to react, gradually lifting his head from where it had dropped as she worked, rolling his shoulders, folding his wings and fixing his uniform with an eerily soft chatter of contentment—one which continued as he spoke.

“Pardon my lapse in concentration,” he murmured, not quite sounding like himself. Hallie looked him up and down with unease, moving in for a hug. She had to make sure he was firmly upright, just in case his lax posture meant he was about to pass out.

“It’s no problem. Just making sure you’re okay. While you rest, I'm going to look for those thugs and make sure they answer for…” Anything else she had planned to say stuck in her throat when she felt his head dip, cool alien skin brushing against hers. The clicking chatter was immediately against her ear and she stuttered a little. “Wh-What are you doing?” Dare she call it nuzzling?

Purr fading, Tomar tensed and stilled, withdrawing enough that they could look at each other. “I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he stated instead of asking, rather tiredly. “I’m sorry. It is…a Xudarian means of showing affection.”

Hallie blinked a few times, speechless, and he blinked in return, pale, pale blue eyes moving critically over her face. If she didn’t say _something_ , he would recoil and the moment would disappear like it had never existed.

 _It’s better to apologize later than to ask permission first_.

“It’s no problem at all,” she repeated at last, hoping she didn’t sound as hoarse as she believed. “It’s just that humans have a different way.” Hoping she wasn’t about to ruin everything, she lightly kissed the side of his face. He didn’t flinch away from the foreign gesture, so she did it again, testing, and she found him leaning into the contact, head fins ruffling faintly in pleasure. Her stomach clenched in shy delight and she ducked her head, but he was quick to nuzzle her again until she stayed still and allowed it.

“You need rest so you can heal,” she commented as the chatter against her ear drowsily dropped an octave or so.

“I do,” he agreed, a breathless wince hiding in the words, but unlike the other aliens she had kissed, he didn’t move. Even if it was to cross the room to his bed for rest and recovery, he seemed to have no intention of leaving. Hallie wasn’t used to that, but she had a feeling she could be if they tried this again sometime.

For the moment, she would just enjoy this surprise and try not to think about what the others might say.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably one of the only people out there who likes this pairing, which I call "Flying Fish", but apparently I liked it enough to write nearly 3000 words for it! Please comment and let me know what you think <3


End file.
